


Salve

by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Booty Calls, Booty Floo, But Not Really Hate Sex, Butch/Femme, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/F, Hate Sex, Infidelity, Masturbation, Quidditch Star Ginny, Strap-Ons, floo sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 18:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10837215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/pseuds/lq_traintracks
Summary: "Because he makes you feel like a lady… my brother. And I make you feel as dirty as you are."





	Salve

**Author's Note:**

> I used prompts from hp_may_madness -- Bill/Fleur (though not really) and Floo sex -- and from femslashficlets -- dirty.

Fleur waited as long as she could. 

Fleur always waited as long as she could. 

But it had been two months now – two very long months in which the Harpies had been travelling, having matches all over Europe – and Fleur tried not to bother Ginny when she was so very busy, so very focused. 

And then, of course, there was her husband. Fleur turned her head on the pillow to look at his sleeping profile: the patrician nose, his hair fanned out, the thick vein of scar where his skin had sewn itself healed long ago. She almost reached out and touched him. But though he was close – he was just there – she hesitated and then recoiled.

Fleur swallowed thickly, turned her gaze to the ceiling, and tried to simply wait out the longing.

The lapping waves of the sea foaming along the sand lulled her into a doze. But she didn't dream of the water anymore. She almost always dreamt of the sky.

 

She came awake again, startled. The night was still dark, the curtains fluttering into the room on the ocean breeze. She was overly warm and threw the covers off her body resentfully. Carefully, so as not to wake Bill, she sat and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She tapped her wand on the lip of her glass and filled it with water. She took long gulps to try to cool herself from the inside out.

Setting the glass down, she licked stray drops from her lips, turned to check that Bill still slept, and then slipped out of bed.

 

The study sat dark in an insular way that the rest of the cottage lacked. The drapes hung heavy, the windows shut. She warded the door after she closed it behind herself, the noise of her own blood moving quick through her body the only sound to her ears.

She was already so wet.

She was always so wet for this.

At the Floo, she dropped down, threw in a pinch of powder, and whispered the name of the hotel.

"Vista Del Mar, Ibiza," said the clerk. Fleur winced at the volume of her happy voice.

She murmured quietly, checking the door once furtively, "G-Ginevra Weasley's room. Please."

The woman's head disappeared, and then the Floo's flames throbbed green interminably while Fleur waited. Her skin was on fire, her cunt aching with want, and it was everything she could do not to sink her hand between her legs.

There was a sleepy grunt, some rustling sounds, and Fleur bit back a gasp as Ginny's face appeared. She rubbed her hand over her newly shorn head, the spikes of her hair a beautiful wreck that Fleur wanted to run her fingers through while Ginny nipped at her breasts and down her stomach.

"Well, well," Ginny said, stretching. "Whatever could you be wanting at…" She checked a watch. "…Merlin, three in the morning." She turned a drowsy smirk on Fleur, the heat in her gaze more than obvious. Fleur's pussy clenched hard between her thighs.

"I… missed you," Fleur got out, her voice barely more than breath.

"You missed getting fucked by me, you mean."

Fleur's pulse beat hard at her throat.

"Hike up your dress," Ginny ordered. "Pull your knickers down. I want to be able to smell you."

Fleur hurried to comply, the rush of relief at Ginny's willingness to get her off almost as great as the desire itself.

"How does it feel?" Ginny asked as Fleur shimmied her panties down her legs. "To want your husband's little sister?"

"Shut up," Fleur breathed, lying back and opening her thighs, a shaking hand descending between.

"You're so fucking filthy, aren't you? Do you want me to fuck you with my strap-on? …spread your thighs wide and thrust it into your hot cunt until you come?"

"Mon dieu… yes…"

"Then show me."

Fleur mewled, opened the lips of her pussy with trembling fingers, and sank one inside.

"Fuck, I can hear that from here. Pull your top down so I can see your tits."

Fleur yanked at the flimsy material, exposing herself and fucking her finger in faster.

"After I make you come on my cock, I'm going to pull it out and go down on you, taste you, make your clit throb against my tongue."

Fleur moaned loudly, bucking into her hand.

"And once I make you come again in my mouth, I'm going to flip you over onto your hands and knees and fuck you hard from behind. Because that's what you want. That's what you want, isn't it?" 

Ginny's voice had gone breathy, close, and Fleur rode the sound of it like a wave to shore.

"Because he makes you feel like a lady… my brother. And I… Fuck, Fleur… I make you feel as dirty as you are."

Fleur came first, groaning as she curled on her side on the floor and clamped her thighs around her hand – and then Ginny, close behind, her breathy whines keeping Fleur going. Fleur's fingers rubbed harsh at her clit, and she was falling, falling, "Yesyesyesyesyesohfuckyes!"

She panted there, a crumpled heap on the floor, and Ginny's dark chuckle stroked over her damp skin.

"I'll be home in two weeks," Ginny said, and Fleur couldn't tell if it was a taunt about what a slag she was – a reminder of Fleur's inability to wait – or if it was only a promise, a salve.

Fleur suddenly wanted to pull Ginny through the Floo. Her breasts tingled with the memory of that filthy mouth sucking on them. She wanted to come again, to never stop. And simultaneously, she felt ill.

"Get some sleep," Ginny told her, her gaze flitting down Fleur's body briefly in a way that suggested a slight loosening of the reins on her own hunger.

"Bonsoir," Fleur said.

The Floo went dark, and she rolled to her back, staring at the ceiling and imagining the shadows of clouds dancing swift over her body.


End file.
